


Sherlock Is a Girls' Name

by Woodnymph



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Genderbending, Multi, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woodnymph/pseuds/Woodnymph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genderbent AU with the Holmes Sisters and the Watson Brothers. </p><p>John and Harry Watson move with their mother to a new area. It's the start of a new year and the boys manage to worm their way into one of the best private schools in England, St Bart's, through a scholarship.<br/>There, they make new friends... and new enemies.</p><p>Things are happening at the school, strange things. And the more John gets involved with the Holmes sisters and their merry band of followers, the further away he grows from his twin brother. Then suddenly Harry disappears, and it's up to John to choose between family, friendship...or love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monday 14th September

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so this is a fanfiction I was thinking of writing for a long time- it's genderbent yes, with a few extra tweaks to work the story a bit better, and it's also teenlock. If you don't like it - don't read.  
> We wrote this for those of you who have just finished series 3 and are already waiting for more. This is a distraction while those arses get their shit together and get the cameras rolling. We hope you enjoy - and any questions or compliments (<3) are extremely welcome!  
> This is written by me and two friends, chapter by chapter (starting with me because swag) so you may notice a slight change in writing style ahah  
> Anyway, I've babbled enough - sit back, relax, and read!

**If John and Harry seem slightly out of character - there is a reason for this. All will be revealed ~**

Chapter 1-

 

'Get up you knob head!' John yelled through the bedroom door of his twin brother. There was a resounding thump from within, and then silence. Just as John prepared himself to break the door down, there was a click and it creaked open slowly. From the depths of the dark room, a disgruntled looking Harry appeared. His hair was stuck up in odd angles and his eyes squinted against the flat ''energy saving'' light of the hallway.                         

'You called?' Harry muttered. John stood on the landing, waiting for Harry to understand why the hell he was up so early. When Harry merely raised an eyebrow expectantly, John sighed. 'School, you idiot. It's  _school_ _today_.'                                           

'Ah... yes. It is, isn't it?' he mumbled thoughtfully. John shook his head in exasperation before turning down the hall to enter the kitchen. ‘Get your lazy arse in here, in UNIFORM in 10 minutes. We’re already late.’                                                                                                                              

With a sigh/eye roll combination, Harry closed his door again.

 

*****

 

He re-emerged 20 minutes later, a smug grin plastered onto his face because he knew just how to piss John off in the subtlest of ways. John slammed a plate of marmite on toast in front of his brother before dragging out a wooden chair and slumping in it. ‘Someone’s in a bad mood’ Harry said observantly. John looked up to reply sarcastically and frowned.                                                                                                               ‘Why in God’s name are you wearing sunglasses?’

‘I have a hangover.’

There was a long pause.

‘It’s September.’

‘Yes’ Harry agreed as he brushed crumbs off the navy blue blazer. ‘These uniforms are stylish aren’t they?’

 

*****

 

The two boys stood at the empty bus stop, ugly backpacks hanging from shoulders devoid of books, giving them the appearance of shriveled lungs. Harry kicked a bit of gravel at John’s foot. John gave him a look. ‘Please take the sunglasses off.’

Harry ignored him. ‘Where was mum this morning?’ he asked, itching his nose.

‘Asleep.’ Was the short answer.

‘How come _she_ gets to sleep in? We’re the ones who have to do part time, what’s she doing?’

 _‘You mean_ I’m _the one who has to do part time.’_ John thought sourly.

‘She just got divorced from our dad, I think she deserves a rest.’ He replied aloud.

‘Does getting a divorce involve running a marathon? Or any strenuous activity at all? No. It doesn't.’

‘Oh just leave it Harry.’ John rubbed at his eyes.

Silence.

‘So what do you think of the new flat then? It’s been two weeks now. Bloody cramped isn’t it?’ Harry piped up.

John took out his phone and checked the time.

‘My room feels like a crypt. Hell, I’m lucky I have a room. Why couldn’t _He_ just move out?’

John whistled quietly and shoved his hands in his pockets.

‘You know, sometimes I wonder why I bother talking to you.’

‘Oh look, there’s the bus’ John said cheerfully.

 

*****

 

The school was bigger than expected; they were already lost. And late. ‘We’re late.’ Harry stated unhelpfully as they walked through the empty corridors in search of a reception. ‘And whose fault was that?’ John grumbled, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair. A few minutes later they were successful. The receptionist looked up in disdain at the two short boys. ‘Hi,’ Harry grinned, ‘We’re new here, sorry we’re late.’

The receptionist did not reply, she simply glared at Harry’s sunglasses. Harry removed the sunglasses. Names were uttered, maps and timetables were awarded and soon the brothers were walking down the corridors once more. But with the aid of a map.

‘What lesson do you have?’

‘Drama.’ John replied. ‘What about you?’

‘R.S. See you at lunch?’

‘See you at lunch.’ John confirmed.

The boys split up to go in their opposite directions.

 

*****

 

Lessons were pretty similar to the ones at Elmtree Senior School in the fact that they were dull and not exciting enough. The teachers introduced themselves, told the class where they should sit, handed out books, and then talked about what they would be doing.  Eventually Lunch heaved its gigantic body round and John was looking for his locker while fighting against the sea of school kids pushing through the halls like they hadn’t eaten since before the summer holidays. The halls soon emptied and John was still standing there, unable to find ‘Locker 221A’.

He was opening his trusted map up when he felt a tap on the shoulder and turned to see a sixth former grinning easily at him.

‘Hi mate, you’re new here aren’t you?’

John agreed wholeheartedly.

‘Bags don’t usually go in lockers during lunch, others tend to hang them ‘‘en route’’ if you know what I mean. There are pegs along the hallway leading to the lunch hall. I’ll help you find your locker tomorrow morning?’

‘Oh right.’ John shifted from one foot to the other. ‘That would be great, thanks.’

‘No problem. What’s your name anyway?’

‘John.’

The taller boy stretched out the hand that wasn’t busy tightly grasping a plastic bag of food. ‘Nice to meet you John, I’m Greg.’

They shook hands.

‘So I’m assuming you don’t know where the lunch hall is?’

‘You’re right!’ John laughed.

‘Follow me then.’ The older boy gestured for John to walk with him.

 

*****

 

 

The lunch hall was gigantic, crowded and extremely loud. John found that he liked it. The atmosphere was warmer than in his old school. Noticing his brother, he gestured for Greg to follow him over. They cut the queue, ignoring the loud protests and joined Harry. ‘Greetings loved ones.’ Harry grinned. John covered his face. ‘Shut up you weirdo.’ he mumbled behind his hands.

‘How’s it been so far?’ Harry inquired as the queue edged towards their edible goal.

‘It was okay, Drama was full of giggling girls and prats and I’m not even going to talk about French.’ John sighed.

‘I feel your pain. There’s nobody as interesting or amazing as me here for any friendships to start. Also, no hot people. All of them boring. Bummer.’

John punched him in the arm and rolled his eyes at Greg who was watching them with an amused look.

‘Although, this 6th former you’ve brought along...’ Harry said rather loudly.

John punched him again.

 

Food acquired, they found the only empty table and plonked their trays down. Greg sat next to them, struggling to hide a grin.

‘What the shit is this?’ Harry asked.

‘Spaghetti Bolognese I think.’ Greg laughed.

‘Debatable.’ Harry pushed at the sauce suspiciously with his fork. ‘So, are you going to introduce me to this mysterious man we have in our presence John?’  

‘Oh God, sorry. Harry this is Greg. Greg this is Harry. My brother.’ John gestured at his brethren vaguely.

‘ _Twin_ brother actually.’

‘Thankfully we aren’t identical.’ John whispered to Greg who snorted into his Coca Cola bottle. Their friendship was instantly sealed – anyone who willing to laugh at Harry was an instant friend of John’s.

‘Somehow, Harry is the older twin. I don’t know why. He’s the most irresponsible guy I’ve ever met.’

‘Well look on the bright side John, I am the better looking twin.’ Harry replied as he sniffed the meat on his plate with a wrinkled nose.

Another sixth former appeared and sat next to Harry.

‘Hey mate.’ Greg greeted him. ‘Anderson, this is John and his brother... Harry?’

Anderson nodded at the two Year 11s solemnly before leaning towards Greg. ‘Why are we sitting _here_ of all places?’

‘Shh... I want to see what will happen!’ the brown haired boy grinned.

John was intrigued but didn’t ask. 20 minutes later, the table was thriving. 10 older boys and two younger ones were all squeezed onto the one table like sardines. It was clear that Greg was popular. The shouting and laughing was a steady roar in John’s ears as he picked at his unappetizing meal and wondered why the Year 12s all had edible food. Each of the boys had been introduced to the brothers at some point, but John had long forgotten them in the happy chatter of the dining hall.

Suddenly there was silence. A shadow loomed over Greg’s person. He turned in his chair to lock eyes with a tall attractive girl in a business suit.

‘Lestrade.’ She said in clipped tones.

‘Holmes,’ he replied with a crooked smile, ‘How are you?’

 

 

In the blink of an eye, the girl was sitting in Greg’s place next to John and Greg was lying face down on the floor.

‘Ouch.’

She looked down at him contentedly.           

‘My table, Lestrade. My space. You invade it with your little gang again and I won’t be so nice.’

The girl whipped round, her ponytail hitting Greg in the face as he stood up shakily.

Then the girl turned to look at John. She raised an arm and John tried not to flinch. But she merely stretched it out and shook John’s limp hand. ‘Hello John, how nice to finally meet you.’

‘How do you know my name?’

‘I do my research.’ She replied with a humourless smile. Greg groaned behind the nameless girl’s head.

‘That really hurt!’ He moaned as Anderson and friends filed out of the dining hall extremely fast.

‘Good.’ The girl said as she bit into Greg’s cheese sandwich.

‘That’s _my_ sandwich!’ Greg protested.

‘Mmm. Victory is sweet.’ Replied the girl, deadpan, before she discarded the sandwich in the bin behind the table. She dismissed the three boys with a wave of her hand. ‘You can go now. I prefer to eat my lunch without a cluster of teenage boys watching.’

As John turned with the others to put his tray on the disposal rack, the girl tapped his arm lightly.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow John Watson.’

John blinked.

 

*****

 

As Harry and John left for their form room, with bags safely on shoulders, the older twin began to complain.

‘Why did she talk to _you_? I’m _clearly_ the better looking brother here. We’ve had this conversation!’

John laughed with a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

_‘What just happened?!’_


	2. Tuesday September 16th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter: Sherlock Holmes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people who have read this got the idea that the characters are in boarding school. They are not - this is set in a private school with the option to board.  
> So as you may have noticed- we aren't professionals. This is indeed the SECOND fanfiction we've ever posted online- so there will be mistakes and weird sentences that don't make sense but please bear with us! We are learning :)

Chapter 2-

Sherlock Holmes woke up to the loud crash of the front door closing. Her pale blue eyes blinked in shock as she shot up in bed. Once she had spat out strands of her thick unruly hair from out of her mouth and brushed curls from her eyes, she looked at the clock on the mantelpiece opposite her bed.

‘Oh no nono!'

Sherlock stumbled out of her bed, one foot tangled in the white sheets causing her to barely avoid knocking over a conical flask on the floor. She reached her window, just in time to see her chauffeur driving out of the black gates with her sister in the back of the car. Smirking to herself probably.

‘Mycroft, that _bitch._ ’ Sherlock exhaled in exasperation. Opening a bedside draw, she retrieved a packet of cigarettes and looked around for a lighter. She’d already missed the first day of school on Monday. Although in her defense, Sherlock had needed it. Finding a lighter under a pile of discarded clothing, she leaned out of the window and took a long drag. Sherlock Holmes was probably the most upper class 16 year old girl to have ever been addicted to drugs. Predominately, cocaine and heroin were the only drugs Sherlock had ever bothered with. So far, staying away from cocaine was a task quite possible for the younger Holmes sister, but heroin… Heroin was another story completely.

Stumping out her cigarette in a plant pot full of stumps, she closed the window. Right now, she was running late for school while suffering from withdrawal symptoms. The return to school would be exactly what she needed; a distraction. Of course there would be huge disadvantages as well. Sherlock went to the same school as Mycroft which meant she could ‘keep an eye on her’. And naturally, the classes would be trivial and tedious, as in all schools. ‘Aargh!’ Sherlock cried as she attempted to simultaneously brush her teeth and get dressed into her school uniform. ‘The game is on, Mycroft.’ Sherlock growled, voice muffled by her toothbrush, shortly before falling backwards onto the hard bathroom tiles with a painful crunch.

‘Ouch.’

~~~~~

The next problem was finding someone to drive Sherlock to school. Mycroft had already stolen Sherlock’s ride.  

‘Winthorpe! Drive me to school!’ Sherlock yelled as she straightened her tie and smoothed down her hair. A plan was quickly forming in her mind.

Her butler emerged from a room. ‘Sherlock? But shouldn't Earl, the chauffeur could take you?’ Sherlock gave Winthorpe an indignant glare. ‘Surely Mycroft wouldn't…’

As the butler trailed off, he saw the determined look on Sherlock’s face. Suddenly Winthorpe grabbed his coat and strode out of the lavishly furnished hallway.

‘Let’s go.’

A small smile crept across Sherlock’s face.

~~~~~

 

‘Faster!’

‘Sorry ma’am, any faster would be illegal.’

Sherlock was about to retort with a structured argument on the stupidity of the police, but she spared her butler the pain and simply whipped out her phone.

‘Winthorpe, I need you to turn right at the roundabout and go the long way. Just trust me.’

The butler sighed sadly.

‘If you say so Miss Holmes.’

All that remained to do was send a few texts.

 

~~~~~

 

Sherlock smiled smugly as she leant on the railing by the school gate.

‘Oh! Hello Mycroft, what a pleasure to see you.’

The disheveled older  girl said nothing. Sherlock checked her phone and a fake sorrowful expression crossed her face. She shoved her phone in Mycroft’s unmoving face.

‘Aw, look at the time. You’re a tad late. I heard there were… problems with the traffic. What was it again? Oh yes a ‘gang’ held up the road, didn't they?’

‘Yes, Sherlock.’ Mycroft replied with a wide sarcastic smile at her triumphant little sister, ‘They happened to block up the _entire_ road actually. I had to walk the rest of the way!’ 

With that statement, Mycroft straightened her now messy bun and brushed past Sherlock into the school, shoes clicking dangerously.

 

 

 

 

 

 

~~~~~

Sherlock was retrieving her books from her locker. As she closed the locker door, it revealed an eager face beaming up at Sherlock like she was a deity.

‘Good morning Sherlock!’ The girl exclaimed happily.

‘Molly.’ Sherlock acknowledged.

 ‘It’s been such a long time since we've seen each other!’ The mousy haired girl smiled enthusiastically.

‘I hadn't noticed.’

There was a lengthy awkward silence.

‘I missed you, Sherlock.’ Molly squeaked.

‘I bet you did, Molly.’ Sherlock replied, desperately trying to end the conversation. ‘I actually have some... _stuff_ to do. Right here. In this locker.’

‘SHERLOCK!’ A cheerful voice called out her name. The dark haired girl rotated smoothly on a heel to find Lestrade striding towards her... with a short blonde boy in tow. She looked this new boy up and down, and then felt a searing pain at the back of her head. Her hands trembled slightly. Not a good sign, maybe she shouldn't have gone to school after all... ‘Good Morning Lestrade. I trust you had an enjoyable holiday?’

Lestrade nodded and pulled the boy in front of him. ‘Of course, Summer’s always a relief. What’s your locker number again?’

‘221B. Why the interest?’ 

‘ _John_ here is looking for locker 221A.’

Sherlock raised a thin eyebrow. ‘You do realize that we have five minutes until form time? You’re in Year 12; you shouldn’t even be in this building. I bet you have a lecture too don’t you? Anyway that locker doesn’t exist. Well, it doesn’t open. It’s useless.’ 

John sagged visibly. With a quick look at Lestrade’s pleading face and a long pause, Sherlock make a reluctant decision. ‘I suppose you could share a locker with me. Until yours is fixed.’ - _Which will  probably never happen._ Sherlock thought.

John brightened, and stepped forward hand outstretched. ‘Hi there, my name’s-’

‘-John. Yes I noticed.’ Sherlock replied curtly, ignoring the offered hand and picking up her bag. She began to walk towards her classroom. ‘I left it unlocked, hurry up and put your things away if you want to get to registration without a warning mark.’

‘Well, thanks for the uh, locker...’ John called after the retreating girl, Molly following at her heels.

Greg patted John on the back. ‘She’s like that with everyone, John. It’ll pass if she finds you intriguing enough. Anyway, Sherlock was right, I actually do have a lecture. I’ll be off. See you around!’

John waved after his friend, and dumped his Physics textbook into locker 221B along with his Coursework information sheets. After a moment of consideration, he thrust his blazer into it as well. Following the map, he walked slowly towards his classroom. He found himself wishing that Harry was by his side, but Harry was in different groups.

~~~~~

‘Aren’t we going to form time?’

‘I never go to registration, Molly. It’s simply a waste of precious time. I’m going upstairs for a cigarette.’ Sherlock told the petite girl as a hint for her to leave. They ascended the stairs together. ‘Ooh! I haven’t been to the 3rd floor in ages!’ Molly grinned.

‘There’s a reason for that.’ Sherlock mumbled under her breath.

~~~~~

‘Chemistry.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I checked our timetables!’

Sherlock had just about had enough of Molly for one day. She needed to plan a way to get the girl off her back.

Sherlock could usually brush her unwanted companion off easily, but today seemed to be pushing all sorts of boundaries. Molly was a demure girl when she’d arrived at St. Bart’s in Year 7. Naturally, she had latched onto the only girl with no other friends; Sherlock. And now Sherlock was regretting not pushing Molly away sooner, even if she was useful at times. While Sherlock was itching for her next fix, Molly had to go.

They arrived at Lab 6 just in time. Now all Sherlock needed to do was find Molly a replacement, someone to stop her from getting lonely. Sherlock scanned the room looking for someone easily persuaded. There. That short, blonde boy... John was it? From the door she looked at the boy properly. He was average, with a rather athletic build and rolled sleeves. Sherlock stared at his arm muscles as they flexed with the movement of the pen and...She shook her head in self disgust.  _Stop that. You’re craving the adrenaline not the sexual activity ,_ her mind scolded her. John’s eyes were tired looking. Not simply literally, but Sherlock had seen something in them as he’d moved forward to shake her hand. Divorce or death, perhaps. Someone close to him.

Perfect.

Ten minutes later the two girls were sitting down and the teacher reliably set them a practical, in pairs as usual. Sherlock just needed to lure Molly now.

‘Molly?’

‘Yes Sherlock?’

‘I think that boy likes you,’ Sherlock pointed at John. ‘He’s been looking in your direction for the whole of the lesson so far.’

‘What, John Watson?’ Molly asked quietly. ‘No, it can’t be, Sherlock. He doesn’t like me, let alone know who I am.’

‘But he’s staring at you right now.’

‘I don’t think it’s me he’s looking at, Sherlock.’

Molly fiddled with her hair and then leant down and began to draw her up results table in silence. Sherlock frowned down at her own untarnished paper wondering what Molly meant. A loud authoritative voice interrupted her thoughts; ‘Okay Year 11, get into your pairs now.’

Sherlock turned reluctantly to an excited Molly but just as she opened her mouth, she noticed John standing there looking at Sherlock cautiously. ‘I’ll get the Bunsen Burner.’ He said slowly.

‘Oh. Yes. I’ll get the...hydrochloric acid.’ Sherlock replied, getting the hint. She hadn't even needed to ask him, how delightful. Molly’s face dropped as she realized she was now partner-less. Sherlock and John didn’t move. Molly waited.

 After a moment; ‘Erm... Sherlock, John? Can I be in a three with you?’

There was an unwritten law; you couldn’t deny someone's request to be in a three with you. Unless you wanted to look like a heartless bastard. Sherlock was well prepared to refuse Molly’s request but John got in there first. ‘Sure.’ John said smiling politely. ‘Could you get us some conical flasks?’

Molly nodded and scuttled away quickly.

‘Why did you you help?’ Sherlock gave a questioning look that said _Care to Explain?_

‘Well you looked really desperate to get away. And I think I owe you something for the whole...locker thing. I’m sorry about that by the way.’ He itched the back of his head with a nervous smile.

 ‘Did I really? How observant of you. Well, I appreciate it.’ Sherlock gave John a quick nod. One or two of the other students looked at them with interest. Ooh, Sherlock’s with another human being. She’s _conversing_ with a person! Sherlock winced, her head pounding as if it were laughing at her too. John watched her closely with interest. Looking for something. ‘You remind me of someone I met the other day.’ He murmured thoughtfully.

‘Wha-’

‘Hi guys, I’m back!’ The duo looked at Molly. ‘Sorry... was I interrupting something? I brought the rest of the equipment too!’

‘No not at all.’ Sherlock flashed the confused girl a smile. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

~~~~~

Sherlock sat in the senior section of the library reading a thick book. She had isolated herself in her mind, alone in the library and alone to her thoughts. Finally she could get some peace. Maybe it was due time for a cigarette? God knew she deserved it. She’d decided against one at break time.

 Nausea ate at her like an old snail – painfully slowly. Putting the book to one side, she reflected on the events of that morning. John Watson. A boring name, but certainly not a boring character. He was full of secrets, and, as with every new student, it was her job to peel those secrets away like layers and get to the core. One of Sherlock’s favourite games. It tended to be an unexciting core, but right now she didn’t even have a case. This was good enough for her. 

She sat up abruptly. Definitely time for a cigarette.

~~~~~

 

John ate in silence as Greg introduced a girl whose name was Sally, Harry made sarcastic comments about the school lunch again and pointed out that the Holmes girl from the day before was missing. He said nothing as the others asked him to move up so they could sit down. He said nothing in English or Latin. Nothing on the bus ride home, Harry chatting happily away beside him. He merely thought. _Who is Sherlock?_ His mind whispered. _Why is Greg the only person who’s voluntarily talked to me?_ _Am I that bad? Or is there something going on? And who the hell is Holmes?_

Little did he know- he would find out soon enough. And he wouldn’t like what he discovered.

 


	3. Saturday 19th September

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you are confused by the end of this one, I don't blame you. Revelations in the next chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been ages since i updated, but coursework has been completely ruthless recently and this chapter has been slightly difficult to write without a plan. Anyway we're really pleased with how this is going so far, there will be a lot of exciting plot twists to keep you on the edge of your seat :D We really want to spread this around so if you are enjoying the fanfiction please do consider leaving a comment or kudos to let us know if we should continue! It's free :)  
> Enjoy~

John woke up slowly. The first week of school had been more stressful than he had predicted, but he felt satisfied. Harry had made a friend already and was going out less, which was surprisingly relieving. A few weeks after the hurly burly of the move, Harry had begun to leave the flat on a daily basis as he had done before, disappearing at 8pm and arriving home at 4am, only to collapse in his bedroom (drunk, occasionally high,) and repeat the process again. Sometimes he didn’t come home for days. Their mother, absorbed in the divorce, had merely dismissed John’s anxious comments on Harry’s behaviour. Thankfully school seemed to be bringing the old Harry back. They used to be so close... John sighed and rolled onto his side, glancing lazily at the alarm clock. 10:00. Time for breakfast.  

Mug of warm tea in one hand and bowl of cheerios in the other, John sat in the armchair in the other half of the kitchen that was hurriedly made up to look like a sitting room. A quick glance to the window on the left confirmed the usual rainy weather. Resting his mug carefully on a side table, he reached for the television remote.

 

 

 

*****

Two hours later, John was staring absentmindedly at the French Vocabulary sheet he was meant to learn. A door slammed. He turned to see Harry standing awkwardly in the doorway. ‘You look...fine!’ John said, surprised.

‘Yeah, I am pretty attractive. Thanks man, you really lifted my spirits there.’

John snorted. ‘I mean you don’t look like you’ve been out all night – you don’t look like shit. And you’re up at a relatively normal time. It’s a change, a nice one.’

‘Yeah, I guess school’s been pretty distracting...’ Harry mumbled, leaning on the kitchen counter, looking sadly at the now empty box of cheerios. He flicked it over with a small sigh.

‘I...stayed up last night.’

‘Doing what?’ John asked distractedly. ‘ _Boulangerie..._ ’

‘Doing...’ Harry coughed.

John looked up impatiently.

‘...Homework.’ His brother finished.

John’s pen dropped. ‘Who are you and what have you done with my brother?’

‘I think he went off for a bit of a walk.’ Harry replied, smiling a little.

‘My god, it only took you a week of school to stop partying and start doing actual _homework_. We should have moved here sooner!’

The two boys laughed, ice broken.

*****

‘What are you going to do today then, now you’ve done all your homework?’ John yelled from his room as he threw his kit on rapidly.

‘I don’t know...play video games, eat, lie around. Might invite Mike or Will round later. Where’s mum?’

‘Not in, I checked. That’s why I’m shouting you idiot! Use that brain of yours more often Harry – it may come in useful during GCSE exams. Anyway, I think she’s out talking to that landlady about pricing or something?’

John hefted his shoulder bag onto one arm, simultaneously opening the door. ‘I'll see you at 4, okay?’

‘Alright!’ Came the short reply.

 

*****

John returned to the flat at 3:45, breath gathering in small clouds above his head as cold metal keys stuttered over the lock between numb fingers. The door opened eventually (with a little assistance from John’s shoulder) and a voice drifted towards him from within.

‘How was the footie?’

‘Pretty good, it’s getting bloody freezing though.’ John answered, removing his gloves and football boots and dumping them by the doormat.

Walking into the sitting room, he found his brother lounging on the sofa with Will. Fighting the urge to groan, John threw his bag onto the nearest armchair. ‘Hello Will. How are you on this fine day?’ he asked in a monotonous tone.

Will smirked, his eyes flitting over John’s body. ‘Hey there _Johnny boy_. I’m doing great, thanks for asking... All that exercise seems to be doing you good.’

John gritted his teeth, hands clenching.

‘Oh shut up Will, and play the game.’ Harry chuckled, not noticing how increasingly pissed off John was getting.

‘Where’s Mike?’ John muttered.

‘Who cares? I’m the guest here. Mike’s not important; we don’t need him to have a good time!’ Will laughed, eyes now fixed on the television screen as he pummeled yet another enemy with excessive enthusiasm. John could easily think of someone he wanted to pummel with excessive enthusiasm and that someone happened to be the stuck up twat sitting on their sofa.

With a scowl John turned towards his room. ‘Let me know when he’s gone.’

 

 

*****

 

John stared up at the dirty yellowed ceiling and sighed. ‘What a prick.’

His phone buzzed from his pocket and he pulled it out with surprise. Opening the text message and holding the phone above himself, he noticed the strange number. He didn’t recognize it...

 

New conversation: Saturday 21st:     _(4:04) Are you busy right now?_

 

After a moments debate, John clicked the reply button.

 

**(4:04) who is this?**

 

Exactly five seconds later his phone buzzed again.

 

_(4:04) Think about it for a minute. Come on John Watson, I thought you were intelligent._

 

John snorted and tapped out another message.

 

**(4:05) ive thought about it and nobodys coming to mind. the fact that you know my name sadly rules out the possibility that this was accidental. just tell me who you are and stop messing with me.**

 

Ten seconds this time.

 

_(4:05) How boring. It’s Sherlock Holmes. Remember me? Also can you please use punctuation when composing text messages? It puts me off._

 

**(4:05) no**

 

_(4:05)No what? I asked two questions, which are you referring to?_

 

**(4:06) both**

 

John could practically hear the eye roll in the text message he received next.

 

_(4:06) Truly, your sense of humour never ceases to amaze me. Now, back to the original subject of this lengthy conversation. Are you available at this precise moment? Don’t spend too long deliberating, I simply need a nice short answer. Similar to the two previous messages you sent me._

 

**(4:07) yes im free, what is it Sherlock?**

 

_(4:07) That was 6 words longer than necessary._

 

John didn’t bother to reply.

 

_(4:08) Okay, fine. I need to meet you at Speedy’s._

 

**(4:09) i moved here several weeks ago do you seriously expect me to know where the hell that is?**

 

_(4:09) Speedy’s Cafe. 30 minutes. If you’re late I’ll finish it without you._

 

**(4:09) finish what, exactly?!**

 

_(4:10) Something I’m working on. But you’re just the kind of person I need right now. (That was not a compliment by the way, just factual information. )_

 

**(4:11) right. do you think i’m actually going to come?? you texted me 10 minutes ago to arrange a last minute meet up in a place i’ve never been to before! with a person i met four days ago!**

 

‘......Harry, I’m going out!’

 

*****

 

John stood outside the cafe with a grimace. For some unknown reason, he had decided it would be a good idea to look up the cafe on google maps and take the bus all the way to this godforsaken place. The centre of London. Cars blared past behind him as he looked up at the badly designed sign, shaking his head in disbelief at what he was about to do. The darkening sky urged him inside.

The interior of the cafe was disappointing, the tables and chairs made of cold, cheap metal. It was so empty he instantly spotted the dark headed girl sitting at the back. Approaching her, he noticed that she was looking intently at her phone. John sat down as loudly as possible, dragging the seat back and collapsing into it. Sherlock still did not look up. After five minutes, John cleared his throat. ‘Do you want me to go? Because there are a lot of things I could be doing right now.’

‘You don’t have anything to do. You have football practice on Saturday and that’s your only dedication. You used to be a lot more sociable but any friends you had before you moved here haven't bothered to contact you. You’re lonely, you’re angry… And extremely bored. If anything, I’m being helpful.’’ Sherlock  replied in a monotone, still not looking up from the touchscreen. John gaped at her but knew better than to say anything, he’d made that mistake plenty of times during the last week.

Feeling resigned, John fished a few pounds out of his tracksuit pocket and stood up to buy a cup of tea.

‘John. Sit down, we’ll attract attention.’

‘I’m not sitting down until you tell me whats going on and why you want me here!’ John growled.

Sherlock placed her phone on the table slowly, lifting her head to gaze calmly at him with pale eyes.

‘I’m working on a case, and I need an actor. You do Drama, do you not?’

‘Well yes but that beside the poin-’

‘I can’t tell you anything yet John, we don’t have the time. Now if you just sit dow-’

Sherlock’s smartphone buzzed. Picking it up with slender fingers, Sherlock narrowed her eyes at the screen and then looked up swiftly; staring at something across the street. ‘There he is. Follow me. As discreetly as possible, if you can.’

She stood up abruptly, tilting the collar of her coat up against the wind as she exited the cafe with a flourish, leaving her untouched coffee behind. John followed hurriedly, picking up the rejected cup as he stumbled out.   

 

‘Where are we going exactly?’

‘We’re following somebody on the other side of the road. Surely your small brain could establish that.’

‘But _why_?’

‘Does that really matter right now?’ Sherlock asked as she weaved through the bustling crowds of people.

‘Well yes, it kind of does actually!’ John cried, pushing past a large woman, trying desperately to keep his companion in sight. He dropped the coffee in a bin as they went past shop after shop.

‘I’ll explain after. All that really matters right now is what we do.’

They followed this unknown person for 10 minutes before Sherlock stopped suddenly and pushed John to a stop behind her. For five seconds there was utter silence between the two and the world seemed to slow around them as they quietly watched an older boy walk speedily into a Starbucks with his head down. As soon as the boy disappeared, Sherlock turned to John. ‘Okay, here we go. The back story is that we are a happy couple on an outing...a date. You are going to purchase a hot drink, it doesn’t matter which one. And then...’

 

 

*****

 

Alex Mason waited in line anxiously, biting his lip with the occasional glance around the warm coffee shop. The cafe was teeming, and he felt slightly claustrophobic as the loud chatter bounced around the room. A tall girl and a blond boy pushed through the door, laughing happily. They were holding hands and grinning at each other. The girl sat down in the only spare place on a sofa and the blond boy let go of her hand and whispered in her ear. The girl nodded and smiled up at him, gesturing towards the queue. Alex tried not to watch as the blond guy joined the queue behind him.

‘What are you getting? I’m still trying to decide.’ a voice rose up. Alex turned in surprise to see the short boy looking up at him with a friendly grin.

‘Oh...uh… A mocha i guess...’ Alex replied hesitantly, feeling strangely self conscious. His eyes flitted to the door and then to the clock.

‘Cool. I think I’m going to get a Salted Caramel Mocha then!’ the boy held out a hand. ‘I’m John by the way. Sorry about the strange chattiness, I’m just really happy today. It’s our one year anniversary!’ The boy looked over to his girlfriend fondly. ‘We just saw a film so we’re going to share a coffee and walk in the park for a bit. It’s such a beautiful night...’

Alex nodded uncertainly, hands shaking a little. Finally he was served his coffee, and made to leave, but the John guy kept talking. He felt panicky, and cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck. He needed to get out. John turned round, his large cup in hand. ‘Hey do you wanna come say hi? I think she’d love to meet you!’

‘I dont thin-’

‘John!’

Suddenly coffee was dripping over his shoes like blood. Such dark blood...Alex looked up to see the tall girl tangled into the arms of her surprised boyfriend. ‘What the hell are you doing, taking so long?! We need to go before it gets too dark!’ the girl laughed. John blinked at her before turning to Alex who was standing still and staring at them mutely. ‘Oh yeah, um… Alex, this is Sherly, my girlfriend. I don’t know what I’d...do without her… and ahem...Sherly, this is Alex. I think you knocked his coffee onto the floor...’

‘‘Sherly’’ whipped round.

‘Oh my god! I am so sorry! I totally wasn’t looking where I was going! Do you want help cleaning it up?? I’m such a clutz, let me buy you another one!’ she cried, her face crinkled in worry as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Alex’s eyes widened slightly, following her movements and gestures with a confused expression. ‘Mandy?’ he whispered hoarsely.

‘Hmm? Who’s that? Your girlfriend?’ Sherly asked brightly as she carefully picked up the dripping coffee cup and disposed of it.

‘I- I need to leave. Right now!’ Alex said, retreating slowly with horror etched across his face. ‘I have to get out can’t let them see...’ he muttered.  

Sherlock was instantly back to normal, triumphant smirk returned. ‘We have him in our hands John. The end is in sight!’ She grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of Starbucks, the cold coffee still pooled on the ground.

They ran, Sherlock with a determined expression and John with a bemused one.

Finally they reached Hyde Park. In the distance they could see the stumbling figure of Alex Mason. ‘Why are we doing this? You’ve already scared the poor bloke senseless, he doesn’t deserve any more of your torture.’ John panted, breath puffing into the dark sky like cigarette smoke. Sherlock stared at the clouds of exhaled air for a few seconds, her face twitching. ‘Can’t you stop breathing?’

‘Um… No!’ John laughed humorously.

Sherlock shook her head as if exorcising the bees inside, her curls bouncing. ‘Nevermind, let’s go. He’s waiting for us.’

 

 

 

 

*****

 

They arrived to find Alex sitting on a bench. Sherlock sat beside him silently, John stood awkwardly. After some time, Alex cleared his throat.

‘This was where we first met. She dropped her coffee on me when I walked past...’ He whispered. ‘She was so beautiful… and she just laughed and said it was nothing I remember feeling so humbled… so… human, you know? For the first time in a long time, I was finally being treated...normally. When I found out she went the the same school as me, I couldn’t believe it. It was like I was finally being given a chance at life.’

There was a pause.

‘It took me a long time to realise that I truly loved her. Too long. And when I finally got my shit together, when I finally jumped over the hurdle and asked her out, she said yes. And I was so happy. So so happy… why can’t I just be _happy_??!’

Unnoticed tears rolled down the shaggy boy’s cheeks as he looked into the distance.

‘It was one year our anniversary. We were going out to see a film. I can’t remember what it was called but it was something she’d been looking forward to… I made such a big mistake! I thought I’d be okay… I’d become too confident… I didn’t take them! I thought I was getting better. I thought… I thought too many things. The doctors too, they told me I was _improving_ and it was all thanks to her.’

He sniffed and wiped his nose with a shaking hand. ‘I didn’t take the meds. I didn’t take the precautions, and then she couldn’t find the fucking tickets! And we argued for the first time in ages and my head was screaming and I didn’t notice, I didn’t-’

He sobbed, body heaving. ‘ I’m a monster! I’m not human… I shouldn’t be alive… I killed her! It’s my fault I let them tell me what to do I sawI saw her become one ofthem and I didn’t even hesitate I just pushed her I hurt her I killed hershe’s dead and it’s all my fault!’

Rain started to drizzle down and John found his eyes watering as he watched Alex fall to pieces in front of him. Sherlock didn’t move a muscle.

‘Oh Mandy… I’m so sorry Mandy.. I tried to protect you, I protected you but you had to die… They need to dieevery last one for what they did to you…I let them do this...I need to-’

‘No Alex.’ Sherlock said sharply. ‘You didn’t kill Mandy.’

‘-but because I was weak, because I was selfi-’

Police cars moved around to circle the entrance of the park.

‘It wasn’t your fault Alex. Please remember that.’ Sherlock stood swiftly and stepped away as a Police Officer pulled Alex’s arms behind his back and clicked the handcuffs shut. Alex looked at Sherlock with wide eyes. ‘Mandy. I’m so tired Mandy. Can’t it just end? Why won’t the pain go away...I love you Mandy… I love you...’

Sherlock’s eyes were averted as he was lead away, still gazing at her with desperation. His eyes stayed on her until the car drove out of sight as silently as it had arrived. John saw him mouth those words one more time. ‘I love you.’

 

 

The rain began to pour.

 

 

 


End file.
